Nights in the Circle Tower
by The3ofSpades
Summary: The Templar Cullen wrestles with his temptations and feelings towards the adventurous young mage under his guard, Katelyn Amell, and fails. Follows the beginning of the mage origin story and ends with smut. (Long time reader but first time writer of such, let me know what you think!)
1. Chapter 1

It was close to midnight. Knight-Commander Greagoir could tell by the position of the stars, by the moon's light in the sky, and by all other keepings of time that he knew. However accurate these methods were, the man still turned from his vigil at the docks to peer upon the scant windows of the Tower. Among those facing the water only one was aglow, high above, kept such by First Enchanter Irving and his penchant for late reading. And without fail, as it was every evening that Greagoir kept the night's watch, the First Enchanter retired at midnight. All lanterns were extinguished and every room of the Circle was dark save for the magical crystals that lit the corridors. The inhabitants were surely in their beds by now, as demanded by the curfew.

The Knight-Commander took the First Enchanter's retiring as a sign to make his rounds for the night.  
"Andraste guide you," Greagoir repeated to his men at the dock, as was the custom.  
The Knight-Commander made his way through the Circle's front portcullis, depositing the fur cloak he wore to keep the chill of the lake winds out of his bones at the entry hall. Ferelden's Circle was a tall structure made here and there of thick stone and rich wood. It housed dozens of mages and Tranquil, young and old alike, and twice as many Templars to guard them. Greagoir was not overly fond of mages but in his years stationed in Ferelden, he had grown a kind of respect for them and the burden they carried. The First Enchanter and the senior mages had grown on the old Knight-Commander but he still did not forget his duties to the Chantry.

Dwelling on the Amell girl's Harrowing that would take place tomorrow, pondering the Fade, Greagoir ascended the stairs. One of his men was posted outside each of the dormitories at all times, ready to signal his brothers should anything go awry. As he neared one of the lone Templars, the Knight-Commander was pleased to see Cullen standing ready at attention.  
"Good evening to you, son," Greagoir smiled, nodding thoughtfully at the young man's salute when he passed.  
The Knight-Commander continued his rounds and moved on to the rest of the tower, per his usual routine. It was only when he was well out of sight that the young Amell believed it was safe to sneak out into the hall.

The Templar guard jumped at the sight of her, for more than just the reasons he cared to admit.  
"You startled me, Katelyn!" He whispered fiercely, "You are not to be allowed out of your bed this late."  
The mage smiled at him sweetly, as she had done when he first laid eyes on her and every night she snuck out of her bed to speak to him. That smile made him question himself.  
"I apologize, Cullen. But I just can't sleep with my mind racing the way it is." Katelyn twirled a bit of her dark hair around her finger, staring up at the Templar with eyes as shining and grey as the metal of his armor. "My Harrowing is tomorrow! I have been training for this half my life and yet it has me terrified and eager and…"

The mage trailed off, noticing some discomfort in the Templar. Cullen was always a bit shy around her, as were the other Templars who did not profess friendship with mages, but this was altogether different.  
"Is something wrong?"  
The man shifted nervously in his heavy plate before he answered. "I forgot to say. The Harrowing? I, uh, I am the one they chose. That is, to strike the killing blow should you become an Abomination. I just, well, I truly hope I will not have to."  
While he thought she would pull away from him at this news, to view him with contempt, Katelyn just smiled that smile of hers again and lightly touched his arm.  
"I have faith that it will not come to that. But if it does, I also have faith in you. Your duty will be your greatest mercy to me. "

The words washed over him like a wave of sickly sweet wine. Every fiber of his being was telling him to act a Templar and send this unruly mage back to bed. And yet a more foolish part of him persisted. The two shared whispered conversations in the hallway well into the night until the Knight-Commander began his descent of the Tower. Katelyn found her way quickly to bed at the sound of Greagoir's armored footsteps approaching. But not after racing back to give Cullen an embrace and a small kiss on the cheek as thanks for listening. The shadow of it never left him until he was relieved of his post and lay in his own bed to rest.


	2. Chapter 2

That night was a ghost of dream as he stood in the Harrowing Chamber the following afternoon. Katelyn tested herself in the Fade and Cullen stood ready with a blade to cut her down should she fail. It was his duty as a Templar but he prayed silently to the Maker that he would not have to fulfill it. The Circle mages knew better than to openly resist a Templar's orders but it was hard not to hear the way some of them whispered of their supposed cruelty. Not Katelyn however, she never spoke ill of him or his brothers. Even if it was his duty to kill an Abomination, he did not believe he could live with himself should she be host to the demon he must slay. Katelyn was fair and kind and Cullen begged forgiveness often for the thoughts he had about the woman.

Time passed dreadfully slow and Cullen's heart beat painfully in his chest. It was all he could hear in the Harrowing Chamber save for Katelyn's ragged breathing. Any sign of struggle on the mage's sleeping face, real or imagined, brought the grip on the young Templar's sword even tighter. Cullen steeled himself for the worst, knowing he could not hesitate no matter what his feelings. He would take the sword and plunge it deep into the Abomination's chest. He would not dwell on the demon's vessel and he would not risk the lives of anyone in the room by stopping to grieve for the loss of one mage. It was his duty.

And then she awoke, weary but unchanged. Both the First Enchanter and the senior mages confirmed her state of mind and declared that Katelyn Amell had passed her Harrowing. She was apprentice no longer. Cullen had expected he would cheer and run to the young woman's side but he found he could not move. As Irving escorted the exhausted mage out of the Chamber and to her quarters, the Knight-Commander stepped up to lay a hand on Cullen's shoulder.  
"You may put your weapon away now, son. It is done." The Templar nodded and sheathed his blade, feeling strangely numb now that Katelyn had left the room.

A storm of thoughts whirled in his head when he returned to his regular duties. Guarding doors and observing lessons, vigilant work that suited him. The clouds in his mind had all but cleared when he returned to his post outside the dormitories that evening. It was past midnight, the Knight-Commander had just passed him in his patrols, and Katelyn was out of her bed past curfew once again. The sight of her brought back the hard beating of his heart and the feeling of dread from the Harrowing Chamber. She appeared disheveled; her dark hair was as mussed as if she had been in bed all day but her grey eyes were as tired as if she had been awake for days on end.  
And yet, there was that smile. "Evening, Cullen. Are you going to congratulate me?"

He remembered the easy way he had spoken with her the night before, the way they both smiled and laughed. But now he just felt grave. She spoke as if he had not been authorized to kill her hours ago and his face must have betrayed the guilt he felt in his heart.  
"What's wrong?" she asked, as if she did not know.  
Cullen turned his away from her, determined not to look upon her for fear that the darkness in his heart would twist her beautiful face into an Abomination. He could not relive that nightmare.  
"It was not supposed to be like this, Katelyn, I-" he choked and all words left him.  
The young mage was worried now for both their sakes. She glanced uneasily down either end of the hall and then touched the Templar's arm ever so lightly.  
"Do you want to go somewhere to talk?"


	3. Chapter 3

A small library was adjacent to the dormitories on that floor of the Circle Tower, a place for the mages to study before they were sent to bed. It was empty now and dark save for a few glowing crystals on the shelves and the light of the moon pouring in from the high window. The room smelt of parchment and the Templar could taste recent magic in the air. Katelyn led him solemnly by the hand and closed the door behind them, giving them their own place with thick stone walls where they could speak freely. Though they had stopped between the shelves, the mage still held his hand and waited for him to speak.

It felt very wrong to be alone with her, knowing he was physically breaking his Templar oath and mentally defying the Chantry's teachings.  
"We must leave here, I should be at my post and you should be in bed." The Templar pulled away from her grasp and started for the door.  
"Wait! Please tell me what's wrong, Cullen. Aren't you happy for me?" The question sounded more like a plea and there was a hurt in her voice that stung.  
He could not leave her thinking she had displeased him. Cullen moved back to where he had left her standing and took both of the mage's hands in his own.  
"Of course I am, Katelyn. You passed your Harrowing and you are here with me, alive!" The man searched her weary grey eyes for a moment, trying to make her see, "But if you had failed… I was ready to kill you and the thought of it was eating me away inside. I shied from my duty and my oath!"  
Katelyn's lips formed the faintest of smiles as if she sympathized but she did not understand. He continued, drawing her hands to his chest so that she had to take a step closer to him.  
"I am a Templar and you are a mage. I am sworn to protect! Others from you and you from yourself… but my heart grows heavy at the thought."

Cullen let go of the mage's hands, sure by the look on her face that she was finally grasping his feelings. They had been lingering in the back of his mind for some time and he would lay awake in bed more nights than he dared to count, imagining Katelyn's sweet smile beside him. The years spent watching her and the other mages did little to help him focus on his Templar responsibilities. And then there were the nights he was stationed outside the dormitories where she slept, where she would sneak out past the Knight-Commander's watch to speak with him. It was an affront to the title he carried and he knew it had to end; he had to hear from Katelyn's own mouth that he was wrong so he could return to the path that was right.

As sure as he was with his words in that small room, he did not expect the woman to smile when he was through. It took him off of his guard entirely. Katelyn took a bold step forward and the Templar retreated, backing into the heavy bookshelf behind him. The mage's fingers grazed his neck as her hands took hold of the collar of his armor and pulled slowly, bringing his head down level with hers. Katelyn's kiss was as feather light as her touch and he closed his eyes at the sensation, his heart redoubling its efforts to beat out of his chest. Cullen lost all formations of thought.

Despite his reservations and beside his honor and his oath, when the mage's lips left his own he craved for more. Entwining a gloved hand in Katelyn's hair and placing the other tentatively on her robed hip, he pulled her in for a kiss much deeper than the small peck she had parted him with. A small pleasurable sound escaped the woman's throat and in that moment the Templar knew it was all forfeit.


	4. Finale

Caught up in their kisses, they had moved to the cushioned reading nook at the far end of the small library. It was a place secluded by the shelves of books and they had time before the Knight-Commander would descend the tower again. The room there was right below the high window, cold, but Katelyn' skin was like fire to the touch. She helped the timid Cullen out of his heavy armor, tracing lips and grazing teeth over each new section of exposed skin. When the mage removed his fauld and undertunic, he could not help but moan deep at the way she sucked upon his flesh. Cullen knew he would hate himself later for breaking every code he held dear. At the back of his mind he believed this may be a desire demon's trick but he could not care less.

Before she neared him to his end, he paused his indulgence to notice how very clothed she was. Cullen brought the mage's head from his lap and drew her into a deep kiss, parting to suck and bite tenderly at her neck and breast, his hands moving along her body to remove the long robe she wore. It seemed to be a garment made for midnight romps. Cullen found he could focus less on buttons and ties and more on Katelyn's wonderfully soft skin. She moved her hands idly through his hair as he licked her neck and moaned softly when she felt his hand slide up her warm thigh.

The Templar did not have much experience with women but he had lingered breaking up enough mage's trysts to be sure of what he was doing. Cullen laid the Katelyn down on the cushions, moving his mouth back up to her own for a kiss as his fingers found the wetness between her legs. A throaty mewl vibrated his lips when he found the bundle of nerves between the soft folds of skin and hair. One and then two fingers slid into her entrance, mimicking the action he wished to produce with his throbbing member, all the while his thumb rubbed at the spot which sent her back arching and her voice moaning. He caught her lips as she cried out in her release, her muscles in spasm around his fingers.

And still she was deliciously wet, calling out his name and touching him. "Cullen," she moaned, her voice laden with lust. It was every sinful dream he had ever had about the woman formed into one and made real. Every worry and reservation he had about making his affections known vanished and lust transformed him into a man most unlike himself. The Templar positioned his body in front of the woman whose skin was now damp from sweat. Helping the mage to sit up again, he pulled her into his lap and lowered her down slowly until he was fully inside of her. Katelyn moaned at the wonderfully agonizing pleasure in the pace at which he worked, almost loosing herself just at the throbbing inside of her. The way he groaned into her neck and the hot breath of his whispered words against her ear, "Oh, Maker forgive me."

Cullen lowered the mage's shoulders onto the cushions and she wrapped her legs around him there. He held the rest of her body against him and began to move in and out of her, slowly at first and then faster, harder. It was all enough to make the mage cry out, one of his hands steadying her back to guide his repeated entrance and the other hand was pressed near to her sex, thumb circling the spot which brought her to her end repeatedly with the Templar's thrusts.

Katelyn dug her hands into the pillows and moaned Cullen's name as they both came to their release. The Templar removed himself at the last moment and spilled his seed onto the floor. With his last bit of strength and with her legs still wrapped around him, the man lifted the mage onto his chest and lay back against the bench. Together they lay, all of sweat and sweet smiles and musky perfume, until they regained their composure. It was well past midnight when they cleaned their mess and dressed, taking longer than expected as Katelyn fumbled with the straps of Cullen's armor. The mage had just made it into her bed and the Templar to his post before the Knight-Commander burst into the hall on the last leg of his patrol. Greagoir regarded the young Templar as he always did and nothing seemed out of place. And yet, Cullen suddenly found himself filled with even more dread than before. The man did not dream of Katelyn at all during his sleep but instead of terrible Abominations and the very depths of the Fade. Something dire was on the horizon.


End file.
